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There's a magician loose in Gotham, and Batman refuses to call in the Justice League Dark for assistance, because of course the stubborn asshole would refuse, despite Nightwing's reminder that it's protocol. The man refuses to accept magic users in his city, insisting that they alone are capable enough to deal with the man. And they are, or at least they should be. Jason still has the All-Blades, not that they know of them, so if push comes to shove, he'll take care of it. Not that he has felt any sort of evil energy from the magician, either way. Not long after they set out to look for him, they find him.
The man turns out to be a teenage boy, not older than 16, an orphan drowning in his grief. A child, that terrified of the Dark Knight fast approaching, screams for a mother long gone and erupts in a desperate starburst of magic. A beautiful purple fog surrounds them fast and covers them with small shiny stars, like diamonds in the air; then the fog shimmers once again, and from it multiple figures walk out, all different shapes and sizes, but still easily recognizable.
At least, he recognizes her immediately —and he feels paralyzed. It's like a current running through his veins, filling him with things he never wanted to feel for her. Confusion, fear, disgust, hatred, longing, love. Sheila Haywood walks out of the fog along Martha Wayne, Mary Grayson, and Janet Drake, and Jason wonders—
Batman compartmentalizes quickly, of course, and against the protests from both the women, Nightwing, and even Red Robin, he contains the child, now passed out, and all of the women that came out of the fog, zip ties them, and proceeds to prepare to move them to the Batcave to be processed when the JL:D comes.
And as he stares silently at that woman being herded into the vehicle —the woman who sold him out and watched him die as she smoked —he wonders if she really deserves to be called his mom. He wonders, with no small amount of resentment —Why her? Why not Catherine, instead?
And as if his prayers were answered for the first time in his fucking life, the fog that has not finished dispersing yet, shimmers one last time and allows one last person to walk out of its remains.
Catherine Todd has come out of the fog and onto the chilly streets of Gotham, her gaze laser-focused on Sheila Haywood.
Catherine had been in heaven for a while.
And she saw everything from heaven.
Everything.
Every. Single. Thing.
Every time Alfred Pennyworth looked down upon her baby for being an uneducated street rat —the grave site, the plaque, the name he engraved, and the fucking case too; every time Dick Grayson treated him like the dirt under his fingernails and blocked his attempts at building a relationship with him —how he influenced the Titans to resent him, how he let Jason be isolated from other heroes his age; she heard every single "You will never be Dick Grayson" type of comments that Barbara Gordon uttered to him —she will forgive her comments regarding Jason's mental health, for she was right and had she been listened to, many awful things that happened to her baby could have been avoided.
But she also saw the good things, once upon a time. How Alfred fed her baby and let him hide food away —how he respected his boundaries and humored his endless questions; how Dick approached Jason at the end and gave him his number, she does not blame him for not being able to answer, she understands Dick was also young and barely into adulthood, dealing with many responsibilities at the same time; how Barbara tutored him and discussed his hobbies with him —oh, how happy Jason was to have someone to talk to about his books, someone who had read them and loved them as he did.
And Bruce, oh Bruce. How Catherine's heart breaks. She had put all of her faith in him.
She had felt so relieved when he had adopted her baby boy; she believed he would keep him safe and healthy, help him thrive, and give him everything she could ever hope for. But she saw everything. Every. Single. Time. Catherine saw and heard everything he did and said to her poor baby boy. She saw the good, the bad, the ugly, and the downright disgusting things he did and said to him. Before and... after. Every hit, every drop of blood spilled, every unkind comment, every time he broke his heart and betrayed his trust. She saw it all. He is the reason she could not rest in peace.
If she could, if she knew she could get away with it —if only she was strong enough to do it, she would tear him limb from limb. Pluck out his eyeballs and his tongue, rip him open, and let the Gotham rats feast on his entrails. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Try a mother's fury; she would burn Gotham to the ground for Jason. Like a proper Gotham parent.
But first. Oh, first. Her eyes lock in on that bitch as soon as she crosses the portal.
Sheila Haywood.
How. Dare. She.
How dare she call herself a mother?!
How dare she be buried beside Jason, when Catherine herself couldn't?!
How dare she stand near and breathe the same air as her baby?! Catherine feels like she will go crazy! Combust in a mix of fury and desperation!
The clown is one thing, but that monstrosity is not human, and therefore cannot be hoped to act like a human being. The clown deserves to be hunted down for sport, yes. But her? What excuse does she have?!
Does she think that just because she said some nice things about Jason before she died, that all would be forgiven?! Traitorous, venomous woman!
Catherine wants to meet the being that considered her mother enough to be brought back along with the others.
She may not be able to make Batman pay, but some fucking blond witch that calls herself a doctor? Ha! Catherine will show her how things work in the Alley. She might have worked in war zones, but she is not a soldier. Not in the way that the Alley made Catherine one.
She dares put her baby boy through all of that? The baby boy she raised with love and care?!
Catherine knows she was no saint. She doesn't even understand how she made it to heaven; she knows she is not free of sin and that she has so much to beg forgiveness for —although, now that she thinks about it, perhaps she was never in heaven. For she spent all her time sitting and watching Jason suffer, unable to help him; she screamed and cried until her throat was raw and felt like fire, saw her baby being torn to pieces, and his memory dragged through the mud, but she was never able to meet him. Perhaps she only thought it was heaven because she could still see her baby boy. After all, despite everything, he had come back from death. Her son still lived, and that felt like a miracle to her —proof that God existed and was just and loving.
Either way.
Catherine will soon commit murder against Sheila Haywood to avenge her son.
Make no mistake.
But first.
She has just made eye contact with her baby boy; her baby boy is here, and his eyes are filling with tears, and he looks so small —despite having grown so tall; he looks so so small, and Catherine can do nothing but hold him until he himself chooses to let go. She could not possibly let go by herself otherwise.
Later, after all is said and done and vengeance has been had, after she had consoled her baby, kissed his face all over, smelled his hair he no longer smells like a baby and that is kind of sad, and told him over and over how much she loves him and adores him and how proud she is of him and all he has achieved —later, she scolds Jason Peter Todd to hell and back.
Rips him a new one, actually.
She scolds him for the bomb in the helmet, for throwing himself off skyscrapers without a grappling hook, for getting himself into suicidal missions over and over again —she scolds him to heaven and back and slaps him upside the head multiple times whenever he tries to defend his unhinged actions —and after she is done with that, she starts ripping into him again for his foul language and crude actions; for the things he did to Mia Dearden, for what he did to Tim in Titants Tower, and for going on a killing dressed as his big brother Nightwing, and Jason —Jason is just this now grown boy curled into a small ball at her mothers lap, cuddling onto his mommas side.
As soon as their eyes connected, back in the streets of Gotham, Jason grabbed her by the waist and grappled away. He carried her away as fast and as far as he could, despite protest from Batman and everybody else present at the time. He took her to his best looking safehouse, his face still wet with tears and holding onto her for dear life, unable to look away from her even as he gets scolded for all of his life choices and being made swear over and over that he will get therapy and write apology letters to all of his siblings and friends that had to get the scare of their lives every time Jason almost died on them.
Her baby is all grown up now, but he still sighs like a kitten the way he used to when she cards her fingers through his hair; he still smiles at her as if she were a good mother and a good person, and not a sinner. Oh, how she loves her baby boy.
Jason could not be any happier.
His mom is back, healthy, and unburdened. She is cancer-free and addiction-free —warm and loving, just as he remembers her.
He turned off all his trackers, but he knows they will find him soon enough. He knows that even if he ran out of the country with her, the magic would not last for them.
Jason Todd is not loved by the universe nor any higher power; this, too, will be ripped away from him.
And whether she is the real one, or a copy made from his memories, it doesn't matter to him. She might be a demon out for his soul, and Jason would gladly give it to her in exchange for a few more seconds of this. He will promise her anything she wants, as long as she stays just for a little bit longer.
He briefly wonders if Dick, Tim,p and Bruce are also enjoying this beautiful gift, or if they have locked their mothers up in a cell, afraid of touching the magic that makes them warm and solid. He finds that he doesn't care.
He will not waste a second.
"Mom, have I ever told you that I love you?" He whispers to her; he can't remember if he ever did.
"Oh, my sweet boy. I've always known." She is lying down next to him, her fingers in his hair, softly humming a lullaby for him. He doesn't want to fall asleep.
"I love you, Mom." He doesn't want to fall asleep. He doesn't want to miss a single moment of this.
"I love you too, baby. Mommy loves you so much." Batman never comes. They spend their time together talking about memories he doesn't remember from his childhood, of Willis calling him his Little Prince, of Jason's first steps, and his first words. Of Catherine's hopes for his future. Of how much she loves him, how her death was never his fault, how ashamed she is of making him take care of her, how proud she is of him for even trying.
When the time eventually runs out, Jason considers going with her. He wouldn't mind sitting with her in their old living room watching TV for eternity. He doesn't, though. He promised her he would try, so he began by taking out the bomb from his helmet. Tomorrow, he will go and print some of the photos they took together and start decorating his apartment with them.